Crow is not healed

The hotpot was finished.

“Thanks for dinner,” the crow said. “I am flying back home.” As she finished speaking, she opened her wings and flew.

Bang.

She fell on the ground. Robert and I ran to carry her, “Are you okay?”

“What’s happened?” She asked.

“You flew in the wrong direction. It’s the door to my house.” I pointed to the door.

“Oh,” the crow looked at the door and looked in the opposite direction and wagged her head. “I'm confused.” She got up. “Bye bye, good night.” She opened her wings and flew.

Bang again.

Robert and I ran to stand by the fence and asked, “Are you fine?” 

“I’m fine, but what’s that?”

“It’s a tree. You hit the tree,” I told.

“What’s happened to me?” The crow covered her wings on her head.

“I think you are not yet well. You better stay here.”

“Well,” she thought for a few seconds then she nodded, “okay.”

“I have free space in the house. You can sleep there.”

“I can sleep on the tree’s branch,” the crow said.

“It’s dangerous.”

The crow giggled, “I am crow. Only a wolf, fox or tiger will be able to hurt me. However, there is Robert. They don’t dare to come.”

“Yes, you are right; but it is double safe if you stay inside the house.”

Robert nodded his head, “Pig is right.”

Knowing that she could not refuse, the crow agreed to stay inside my house.